


Sam Winchester Saved My Life

by anotherwinchesterfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kidnapping, Reader-Insert, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 13:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4061965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherwinchesterfangirl/pseuds/anotherwinchesterfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam saves the reader from a vampire, fluff ensues. I imagine that this takes place somewhere around season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for all the English nerd, bookworm, Sam-loving fangirls (oh wait, is that just me?).

You blinked and looked up from your laptop screen for the first time in what felt like hours, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your eyes. This thesis was kicking your ass, and you needed a break. You looked into your coffee cup, sighing when you found it empty, and then checked the time on your phone: 8:26. Just enough time to get a refill before the coffee cart closed. The library was mostly empty by this time of night. It was just the circulation librarian tapping away at her keyboard; an attractive, long haired guy in a flannel shirt that had his brow furrowed at his laptop screen; and a dressed up guy lounging in one of the armchairs that seemed to be looking around more than reading the novel he held. You figured it would be fine to leave your stuff on the table while you popped out to the coffee cart in the hallway for a minute.

The barista was filling your cup, and you were fishing crumpled bills out of your pocket to pay, when you heard a voice in your ear. “Can I buy your coffee?”

You jumped and spun around coming face to face with the dressed up guy from the armchair. He had black hair, slicked back, and startling blue eyes. He wore dark jeans, shiny shoes, and a crisp white button up shirt that wasn’t buttoned up all the way. You suddenly felt awfully disheveled in your worn out jeans, old t-shirt, and dirty chuck taylor sneakers. You self-consciously reached for your hair, which was twisted up into a messy bun and falling everywhere.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice was low and smooth.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you said, trying to laugh it off. “I’m easily startled. And currently a little jumpy and over-caffeinated.”

He smiled, showing off dazzling white teeth, stepping in front of you to hand his own empty cup to the barista, along with his credit card.

“Thanks,” you said.

“You’re welcome. Been working hard?”

“Uh, yeah. Deadline coming up.”

“Oh, what are you working on?”

“My thesis for my master’s. English Lit.”

“Wow, very interesting.” He commented, even though he didn’t really look that interested.

“Well, I better get back to it. I still have a lot to do tonight. Thanks so much for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.” You could feel his eyes on you as you walked away, but you tried to shrug it off. You settled back in at your table and pulled a book toward you, trying to refocus on your work.

An hour later it was nearly time for the library to close, and you’d barely gotten any closer to finishing your work for the night. You shutdown your computer and started tossing books into your bag. You looked up just as the long-haired guy looked up at you, making eye contact. He smiled slightly, just a half smile, before he looked down and closed his own laptop. You felt your cheeks get warm, and you chided yourself for being so pathetic. You couldn’t even make eye contact with a cute guy without blushing.

Bag packed and keys in hand, you headed out to your car. The library had been packed when you’d arrived earlier in the day and you’d been forced to park in the back lot. As you trecked through the pitch black, empty lot, you thought you heard footsteps behind you. You brushed it off as paranoid, but you did clutch your keys a little tighter. Then there was a loud scraping noise that was unmistakably right behind you. You froze and slowly turned around. When you looked back up at the library entrance, you saw a silhouette duck out of the pool of light at the front of the building, and you could have sworn it was the long-haired guy that had smiled at you just a few minutes ago. You squinted around, desperately trying to locate the source of the noise, but you couldn’t see anything. Then suddenly, a strong hand clasped your wrist and spun you around, twisting your arm up behind your back. You cried out in fright and tried to twist away, kicked your legs out in a futile attempt to hit your attacker. Then you felt sharp, cold metal press against your throat, and you froze again as terror cut through you.

“Calm down and there’s no need for you to get hurt. You’re coming with me.” You recognized the voice immediately as the man who had bought your coffee earlier.

“Let her go,” someone growled to your left. You whipped your head around to see the long-haired guy, pointing a gun and a flashlight at your attacker. _Oh my god, what is happening_ , you thought frantically, your breaths coming sharp and fast. You were going to hyperventilate.

“I don’t think so,” your attacker purred in your ear, making you cringe. “She’s been marked. She’s coming with me.” Marked?? What the hell does that mean? He tightened his grip on you, the buckle from your bag digging painfully into your back. A light whimper escaped your lips. You couldn’t breathe. Your vision began to go fuzzy and dark at the edges.

“I’m not gonna let you take her.”

“Who do you think you are, a Winchester?”

The guy holding the pistol didn’t respond, but he shrugged his shoulders and smirked in a _yeah and what are you gonna do about it_ kind of way. Your attacker barked out a laugh.

“Oh, this will be fun,” came the reply in your ear.

Suddenly, the Winchester lunged forward, but before he could reach you, you were thrown, catapulted through the air. You tried to scream, but you didn’t have enough oxygen in your lungs. You hit the concrete like a rag doll, pain searing through your arm and shoulder, and then you blacked out.

 

* * *

 

You felt like you had been hit by a bus. You groaned, keeping your eyes closed, trying to recall if there was a reason why you could be in this much pain. Then the events of the previous night flooded your memory and your eyes snapped open. You were in a motel room, laying on a bed, the sun bright in your eyes. You tried to sit up, but the pain in your left arm and shoulder took your breath away. “Shit,” you groaned, falling back against the bed.

“Hey, you’re awake,” someone said to your left. You turned your head to see the guy from last night—the one with the long hair. The Winchester. He was sitting on the bed next to yours, leaning against the headboard, long legs stretched out, his laptop on his lap. He was even more attractive than you remembered, and you probably looked like a train wreck right now.

“I kind of wish I wasn’t,” you muttered, closing your eyes.

“Dean!” the Winchester shouted toward the back of the room. You managed to raise your head slightly to look in that direction as another attractive man exited the bathroom still brushing his teeth.

“She awake?” he mumbled around his toothbrush. He returned to the bathroom momentarily. Meanwhile, the other guy had set aside his laptop and sat on the edge of the bed facing you, leaning forward, his forearms on his knees.

“Can you please tell me why I am in a strange motel room with two strange men?” you asked, weakly. You knew you should probably be freaking out, but somehow you knew that these weren’t the bad guys in whatever this situation was.

“Well,” he started as Dean came to sit beside him. “You were attacked last night...at the library.” The tone of his voice was cautious, like he expected you to freak out at any moment.

“Yeah, I remember,” you replied. “You were there. You saved me.”

He winced a little. “I wish I could have caught you before he did. If I’d known the whole of it, I never would have let you walk out into the parking lot by yourself.”

“What happened to that guy?” you asked, and suddenly the questions just started pouring out. “Wait, did you call the police? Why am I here and not in a hospital?” You figured that if these guys were going to attack you or kill you, they’d have done it already. You tentatively rolled onto your side that didn’t hurt as much and propped yourself up on your elbow. “Also, why do I feel like I got hit by a car?”

“It’s complicated. Not really an issue the police can deal with,” the first guy said. You still didn’t know his name.

“Your shoulder was dislocated,” Dean said. “We popped it back in, but it’ll be sore for a few days.” You cringed at the thought of your arm being “popped back in” to your shoulder socket.

“And you’re pretty scratched up from your fall,” the other added.

“Yeah, what happened? I could have sworn that guy...” you stopped yourself because you didn’t want to sound like a lunatic. “I mean, it was like I was—”

“Thrown?” Dean asked. “Yeah, this is where it’s gonna get a little weird.”

“How could he have possibly—”

“He was a vampire.”

“Um. What?”

“Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. We’re kind of professionals in dealing with these kinds of things—”

“Um, no, I’m pretty sure you guys are NUTS.” You tried to get up again, gritting your teeth against the pain. “I mean, thanks for saving me from that guy or whatever, but I really need to go home.” You managed to stand briefly before you were hit with a dizzy spell, and you were glad the bed was still under you when your knees gave out. The guy with the long hair  reached forward and grabbed your arms, helping you steady yourself in a sitting position at the edge of the bed.

“Look—what’s your name?” His hazel eyes were full of compassion when they connected with yours.

“Y/N,” you said.

“Y/N, I’m Sam.” He sounded so sincere. “This is my brother, Dean. I know this sounds totally crazy, but I swear we aren’t going to hurt you. We...we hunt monsters. Anything you can think of, things that go bump in the night—vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons—they’re very real, and they’re very dangerous. We think you are in serious danger, and we’d really like for you to stay here until we can take care of the problem.”

You sat still and thought for a moment. “Are you sure this isn’t a dream?” you asked, still skeptical, but willing to give them a chance.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” Dean said wryly.

  


* * *

 

“He said she was marked.” Sam sat at the small table pouring over books, trying to find answers. “What does that mean?”

Dean sat opposite him, but had given up on the research and was just leaning back, drinking his beer. You were in the bathroom finishing getting cleaned up, but the door was half open so you could hear the conversation.

The guys had filled you in on what they thought was going on at the University—you knew there had been a couple disappearances over the past six months, but you didn’t think they were related or had anything to do with you. One girl had been out drinking with a group of friends one night and had never made it home. Another had last been seen in her evening econ class and now no one knew where she was. When Sam and Dean showed you pictures of these other girls, it all began to make sense. They looked like you—same color hair, same eye color, same build, same age.

Then they explained about vampires—how they were super strong and fast and how they lived in nests. They drank blood, but getting bit by a vampire didn’t turn you into a vampire, like most stories said—you had to actually ingest vampire blood to become one. You were still attempting to wrap your mind around all this while the guys tried to figure out why the vampires were abducting females that fit a certain profile and what they were doing with them. Sam seemed to be particularly concerned about how the vampire had said you were marked, worried that, even though he had offed the one that attacked you, others from the nest would be able to trace you somehow. You’d begged them to take you home for a shower and a change of clothes, but they wouldn’t budge. They assured you that as long as you were in the motel room, they could keep you safe—they had ways to throw off a scent for a tracking vampire—but they were worried that if you left this room, the vampires would be on you immediately. So now you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, showered but back in yesterday’s dirty jeans. At least Sam had lent you one of his t-shirts to wear in place of your torn one, even if it was big on you.  

You couldn’t think about it too much, the fact that you were being hunted by vampires or that two insanely attractive demon hunters were keeping you in their motel room yet seemed totally trustworthy. If you thought about it too much, you knew you would freak out, and you didn’t want to succumb to a full blown panic attack in front of Sam and Dean. They made everything sound perfectly normal, when logically it was totally insane. But you had been attacked last night, and Sam had saved you, so who else were you supposed to trust right now?

“I don’t know, Sammy. Why does it matter? We just need to find the nest and kill them all and problem solved.” Dean drained his beer and stood up.

“Because, Dean, this might be happening in more places than just here We need to know what their motive is and how they’re doing it.” He turned to you. “Y/N, you said that the vamp was behind you at the coffee cart. How close was he?”

“Pretty close. Close enough to whisper right in my ear. He scared the crap out of me.”

“Did he touch you at all?”

“I don’t think so.” You shrugged, using your good arm to comb through your wet hair with your fingers. Then something caught your attention. A chunk of hair that was shorter than all the rest. Your breathing picked up, some of the same feeling of terror slicing through you as it had last night. You knew it was just hair, but you still felt violated.

“Uh, guys?” you called. “I think that vampire cut off some of my hair.”

 

* * *

 

You were sitting in on the floor with your back against one of the beds, books spread out all around you. Your laptop had been crushed in your fall and was completely beyond repair, but Sam let you borrow his so you could work on your thesis while you were holed up in this motel room. After you’d gotten over the initial shock of having a chunk of your hair cut off without you knowing, Sam had found a tiny side note in what looked like a journal that mentioned an alpha vampire seeking a certain genepool. They were abducting women chosen by the alpha and turning them into vampires in order to procreate and increase their numbers. Raising vampire children was easier than turning human adults into vampires, you guessed. Sam and Dean assumed that the alpha had instructed his lackeys to hunt down women of a certain profile and either bring them or a part of them back to the nest for approval. Hence the hair chop: insurance in case that vampire couldn’t get you back to the nest right away. And he hadn’t, and Sam had killed him, but who knew what he did with your hair—he could have passed it on to another vampire before he attacked. Which meant they probably had your scent. Which meant you really couldn’t leave the motel. So the guys had gone out to see if they could dig up any more info about the location of the nest, and you were stuck here by yourself. At least there was coffee.

Suddenly, the door swung open and you look up startled, but it was just Sam. He was wearing a suit and tie—his FBI look, he’d told you before he left. It looked good on him. He was impossibly good looking.

“Hey,” he said, tossing keys on the table and shrugging off his suit jacket.

“Hey, how’s the investigating? Find anything useful?”

“We might have a lead on where the nest is. Dean’s looking into it, so I thought I’d come check in on you.” He smiled and moved some of your books out of the way so he could sit beside you on the floor.

“You know, I don’t really need checked in on. I’m an adult. I promised I wouldn’t leave this room, and I meant it.”

“I know, but you’re also being tracked by a nest of vampires, so I thought I should come make sure you were still alive at the very least.” His concerned eyes connected with yours. “I know it sucks to be stuck here—it probably feels like we’re holding you hostage, but I promise we’ll figure this out, and then you won’t ever have to see us again.” You just shrugged, not sure what to say, too distracted by his amber eyes to even think about formulating a sentence. Thankfully, he changed the subject. “Tell me what you’re working on.”

“And Then They Were Men: A Study in the Modern Bildungsroman.” You recited the title of your thesis. “Like, um...coming-of-age stories.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded in understanding. “That’s cool.” He glanced around at the books you had scattered and stacked around you—everything from _The Catcher in the Rye_ to _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_. “No way.” He reached for a book—one of the thickest. “Harry Potter?”

“Um, yeah, how could I not include Harry Potter? It’s like the ultimate modern coming-of-age story. And the series that shaped my entire childhood.”

Sam laughed. “Me too.”

“You’ve read Harry Potter?” You raised your eyebrows at him. This surprised you a little bit for some reason. I mean, you could tell he was smart and educated, and he probably read a lot, but he didn’t really look like Harry Potter was his thing.

“Yeah, of course I read it. When you grow up like I did...well, reading was a necessary escape.”

“So, if vampires and werewolves and ghosts are real, please tell me that Hogwarts is a real place too.”

Sam laughed, his grin lighting up his entire face, his eyes sparkling. “Unfortunately, I’ve never run into anyone that’s been to Hogwarts.”

“Man, why is it that the bad, evil stuff is real, but not the good stuff?”

“Angels are real. Though they’re not always good either. It seems like a lot of things have the tendency to go towards bad instead of good, you know?”

“Except for you guys. Saving the world, one monster at a time.” It was insane, what Sam and Dean spent their lives doing, but it also seemed heroic and admirable.

“Sometimes I feel like we’ve done more to condemn the world than to save it.” His eyes turned sad; he looked like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you wondered what had made him feel that way.

“Well it sounds to me like you guys are heroes. You’re my hero, anyway. You saved my life last night.” Sam looked up at you and held your gaze. You shrugged; you weren’t trying to embarrass him, you were just telling the truth. The corners of his mouth twitched up very slightly, but he didn’t say anything. “So...th-thanks. For protecting me,” you stammered, suddenly nervous with his eyes on you. You tucked your hair behind your ear and looked down just as Dean burst into the room.

“I found it, Sammy. Come on, we gotta go.” Sam jumped up.

“Whoa, Dean. It’s gonna be dark in like…” Sam checked his watch. “...half an hour. We can’t just run in there, guns blazing. We don’t even have any dead man’s blood. We need to make a plan.”

“But…” Dean stopped and glanced out the window at the setting sun. Then he looked back at Sammy and down at you, still sitting on the floor with books in your lap.

“Dean. Bum-rushing a vamps nest after dark is a suicide mission. We need to get prepared. Besides, I think the chances of them abducting someone else tonight are low. They’re still looking for Y/N right now.”

“Okay okay, you’re right. I’ll go get the dead man’s blood. And some food—I’m freaking starving. You—” he pointed a finger at Sam, “—lock this place down. I don’t want us on the vamp’s radar at all. And you—” he pointed at you, “—sorry, but you’re stuck with us for one more night.”

“Fine by me,” you replied. “I’m pretty sure I’d rather be here than be a vampire. Just saying.”

 

* * *

 

You watched the back of the impala as it sped out of the parking lot, Sam and Dean inside. You barely knew these guys, but you missed them already. The room seemed awfully empty and lonely without their presence.

The night before, after Dean had returned with pizza and beer and dead man’s blood, you had actually managed to forget the fear of vampire attack for a few hours and relax as you ate, entertained by Sam and Dean telling each other’s embarrassing stories and Dean’s endless bad jokes. And after Dean had gone out to the impala so he could keep watch on the parking lot overnight, Sam had been doing research, but every time you’d looked up at him, he’d been looking at you. He met your gaze often and kept giving you this adorable half smile, and every time he did you would immediately lower your eyes, feeling your cheeks get warm. It was driving you crazy. You weren’t normally one to be into a guy that you’d just met, but there was no denying the attraction you felt toward Sam. Eventually, you’d given up your attempt to read, joined Sam at the tiny motel table, and started asking him questions about vampires and hunting and life in general, which led to the two of you talking until the early hours of the morning. You thought he might have been flirting a little, holding your gaze for slightly longer than necessary at times, letting his hand brush yours when he reached for a book. But you tried not to read too much into it. Maybe that’s just how he was. Still, you’d had a hard time falling asleep, hyper aware of him sleeping in the same room as you—even if you were in separate beds.

That lack of sleep was catching up to you now, and you decided to lay back down and take a nap. Sam and Dean had said not to expect them back for at least a couple hours, and you couldn’t leave until it was safe anyway.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Your head ached, and your whole body felt heavy. You forced your eyes open, even though all you wanted to do was go back to sleep, but the surface under you felt hard and cold, and you couldn’t remember where you were. Wherever it was, it was completely dark.

Slowly, the memories came back to you: being attacked by a vampire, spending the past day and a half with Sam and Dean in a motel room, laying down for a nap on the motel bed. And _oh my god_ you were definitely not on the motel bed anymore. Your breath caught in your throat and your heart began to pound erratically. What the hell had happened? You squeezed your eyes shut and sat up slowly, stretching your arms out in front of you to feel around in the dark. It was so dark you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. Your fingers bumped up against a cold, damp wall that felt like concrete. Feeling your way along the walls, you traced the room, which was the size of a closet, windowless, and seemingly empty except for you. It was also achingly quiet—your ears were ringing with the silence. You found the corner and sunk down against the wall, trying to keep your breaths steady, trying to keep the anxiety at bay. After just a few deep, calming breaths, you heard loud, slow footsteps outside the door, coming closer and closer. Then the door swung open with a creak, spilling dim, gray light into the room. A figure stood in the doorway, just a black silhouette.

“Good morning,” the man drawled. “It’s good to see you awake.” He stepped into the room and his face finally came into view. Dark eyes shone out of a thin, pale face. Red tinged the corners of his lips. He was dressed similarly to the vampire that had attacked you at the library: black pants, shiny black shoes, a crisp white button down shirt undone at the neck. He squatted down to speak to you, as if you were a child. He blocked the entrance, but even if you could have gotten away, you were frozen in place, rooted to the floor.

“I’m sorry to have kept you in this dingy back room. Usually, I have much better accommodations for my women.” He looked you up and down. You wanted to throw up. “But there have been some extenuating circumstances—”

As if on cue, a loud bang sounded somewhere down the hall, followed by a guttural yell, gun shots, and the clatter of something falling. You jumped, startled, and the vampire reached out and touched your hand, sending shivers down your spine, and not the good kind. His skin was like ice.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’re going to get you somewhere more comfortable and begin your transformation.”

It was like his words flipped a switch in your brain, and you could move again. You scrambled backwards, pressing yourself into the wall and away from him, but there was no where to go. You threw a wild punch, connecting with his shoulder, and he stumbled back momentarily.

“Is that the way this is going to go?” He sounded disappointed. “Very well.”

You tried to jump to your feet, but he caught you awkwardly before you could get a solid footing. You lashed out, trying everything you could to get out of his icy grasp—kicking and scratching—but he held fast. He lifted you by the neck, squeezing the breath out of you, while he pulled a length of rope from his pocket and effortlessly wound it tightly around your wrists with one hand. He reached down and did the same with your ankles. You gasped for breath when he released your throat, and then he tossed you over his shoulder and carried you out of the room. You twisted and screamed, adrenaline pumping through you, but all your efforts at escape were futile. Then you heard it:

“Dean!” A familiar voice from down the hall, from the opposite direction that the vampire was carrying you, from the source of all the noise and ruckus of a fight. Your heart lept. They were here, of course, they were raiding the nest.

“SAM!!” You shrieked as loudly as you could, hoping desperately that he would hear you. You craned your neck toward the direction of the fight, pressing your bound wrists against the vampire’s back to push up your torso. “SAM!!” You got one more scream out before the vampire threw you to the floor, knocking the breath out of you, and wrapped a strip of fabric around your face, into your mouth, gagging you.

“I’m getting a little tired of these antics,” the vampire said in a low voice, his face inches from yours. “It’s really not so bad this fate, you know. You’ll live; I’ll take care of you. Such good care.” He put a hand to your cheek, dragging his sharp fingernails down your face, making you shudder. Then suddenly, he froze. You heard the click of a gun being cocked.

“Let her go.” Sam’s voice, low and serious.

The vampire let out a short, barking laugh, his breath shooting out over your face, the metallic scent of blood making your stomach turn over.

“Do you really think shooting me is going to kill me?” the vamp asked snidely.

“With this gun, yes.” Dean’s voice.

You thought you saw a flicker of fear cross the vampire’s face, but it was gone in an instant, and he lashed back with his arm. A gunshot rang out, and you heard Dean curse, as the vamp pulled you up and spun you around, using you as a shield between himself and the Winchesters.

You could see why Dean had cried out: the vamp had put some deep scratches into the back of his hand. But he still had his pistol pointed at the vamp. Well, at you and the vamp. Sam held a machete at his side, looking like he was ready to pounce. Before you could even make eye contact with Sam, the vamp wound his fingers into your hair and yanked your head to the side, exposing your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your skin. You were frozen in terror, couldn’t even breathe, looking between Sam and Dean with wide, wild eyes.

“Take that gun off me, or I will drink her,” the vampire hissed.

Dean and Sam exchanged a look you couldn’t read.

“Okay! Okay,” Dean said, slowly squatting down, arm outstretched, reaching to set the pistol on the floor. The vampire relaxed his grip just slightly, and then, suddenly, Sam changed forward, pulling you out of the vampire’s clutch and spinning you so your back was up against the opposite wall, shielding you with his body. You couldn’t see anything except Sam’s flannel shirt, but you heard a roar from the vampire, a gunshot, a thud. And then it was quiet.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. He reached behind your head and untied the strip of fabric that was gagging you as you drew in a shuddering breath. Your whole body was shaking, and you barely looked down to notice that your hands, still tied at the wrist, were twisted in the front of Sam’s shirt, before your knees completely gave out. Sam caught you and held you up by the waist.

“Easy there,” he said, soothingly. “Adrenaline crash will do that to ya. Here, I got ya.” He bent down and slid one arm under your knees, scooping you up like you weighed nothing.

“I think I’m okay,” you croaked out, your voice hoarse from screaming.

“I’ll carry you anyway,” Sam said, smiling slightly as he looked down into your face. You heated slightly under his gaze and in his grip, wondering to yourself how your body could be reacting this way after the ordeal you’d just been through. This should have been the last thing on your mind.

“Take her to the car,” Dean said. “I’ll go look for the other girls.”

Sam nodded and started walking with you down the hall.

“Are they...did you kill them all?” you asked nervously as you reached the front of the building. It was less dungeon-y than the hallway and the closet you had been held in. It was a living room—almost lush—with sofas upholstered in red velvet and heavy draperies on the windows. You looked down as Sam took an extra large step, and you realized he was stepping over a body. A decapitated body. The vampire’s head was laying a few feet away, eyes open and fangs bared, a streak of blood between it and the body it fell from. You shuddered involuntarily.

“Everyone we came across. Dean can handle it if he runs into any back there.” Sam set you down on one of the couches and pulled a knife from his pocket so he could cut the rope binding your wrists and ankles. You noticed that you had entered the room through a hole in the wall, from which, it appeared, a bookcase had been knocked over to reveal.

You rubbed your wrists as Sam cut them free, wincing slightly at the rope burn. Sam’s eyes were concerned when he met your gaze.

“Did they hurt you?”

“I don’t think so…” you said shakily. “I feel okay, but...I don’t even remember how I got here. After you guys left, I laid down on the bed and fell asleep. And when I woke up I was—I was in that closet back there.”

“They must have tracked Dean or the impala. Then staked it out until we left. I don’t even know how they managed to get to you in broad daylight. Something weird is going on.” His brow furrowed, creating lines in his forehead, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out what was going on. Anxiety clenched your stomach.

“Sam,” you said softly. You wanted to ask if it was over, if you would ever be able to feel safe again, how he did this all the time, but your voice faltered. He met your gaze, your worry reflected in his eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, grabbing your hand. “You’re gonna be fine. We killed the pack leader, and he was the one that wanted you. Something weird is going on, but Dean and I will take care of it. You’ll go home and rest and recover and get back to your life. And all this crazy will just be a memory.”

You nod, but you’re not really sure how you’ll be able to return to normal after all this.

You looked up and Sam turned as Dean stepped into the room, head hung and pistol gripped loosely at his side.

“Too late,” he said, his voice heavy. “They were already turned, they’d already fed. It was too late.”

Sam nodded tersely and stood. You felt tears prick your eyes at the thought of those girl’s lives lost too early. The anxiety clenched you again as you realized how close you were to the same fate, and you drew in a shaky breath. Sam squeezed your fingers in his hand, which was still wrapped around yours.

“We’ve gotta get this cleaned up,” he said, looking down at you. “You want to wait in the car?”

You nodded silently and stood up on shaky legs. Your whole body was shaking and you’d never felt so exhausted. Sam walked you back to the impala, while Dean began rounding up the decapitated vamp bodies that scattered the room, pulling them into a pile.

“I don’t know how you guys do this all the time,” you said softly to Sam as you walked to the door. “Like, how are you not freaking out constantly? How are you not completely crazy?”

Sam laughed a little, but you could see pain in his eyes.

“After a while, you just get used to it, I guess.”

You felt his hand touch the small of your back as he led you out the door. You squinted your eyes against the bright sunlight; you’d almost forgotten that it was daytime at all, the vamp’s nest had been so dark and cold. You stopped for a second next to the impala, and Sam’s chest collided with that back of your shoulder.

“Sorry,” you said. “The sun just feels too good.”

Sam laughed. “I forgot you’ve been cooped up for two days.”

You turned around to look up into his face.

“Thank you again for saving my life,” you said softly.

Sam shook his head and opened his mouth to counter, but you interrupted him.

“Yes, you did,” you insisted. “I would have been in the same place as those other girls—kidnapped, dead, or worse—turned into a...a monster. But I’m still here because of you. I don’t know what forces out there decided I deserved to be saved, but I’m feeling really lucky to have met you. Both of you. And I’m really thankful to still be here.” The lingering adrenaline must have been making you bold because you reached forward to grab his hand, and he squeezed your fingers in response. Locked in his intense gaze, a fire spread from his touch at your hand throughout your body, gathering in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m glad you’re still here, too,” said Sam, taking a small step toward you, keeping you locked in his stare. You wished he would kiss you. You’d never wished for something so hard in your life. But as soon as you thought he might be leaning forward, a loud “SAMMY! Quit trying to get in her pants and come help me clean this up!” from Dean shattered the moment. You jumped back, but Sam just smirked and rolled his eyes. He squeezed your hand again before dropping it at your side and leaning around you to open the passenger side door of the impala for you to climb in.

“Wait here, we’ll be back in 5.”

* * *

 

After all the vampire bodies had been disposed of, Sam and Dean drove you back to the motel so you could gather up all your things. Sam helped you gather your books that were scattered around the room. He tried to get you to take his laptop because he felt bad about yours getting broken, but you insisted that you had insurance on it, and it wouldn’t be a big deal for you to get a new one. “Sam you saved my life, I think a broken laptop is worth it,” you said, trying not to meet his eyes because you knew if you did it would be hard not to wish for him to gather you up in his arms and press his lips against yours.

Dean and Sam drove you to your apartment, which was across town. You stayed quiet in the backseat, not sure of what to say. You’d already said thank you so many times that it seemed like they were tired of hearing it. You didn’t want to say goodbye. You tried not to cry as all the emotion of the past couple days washed over you. You could at least hold it together until you got into your apartment.

You said goodbye to Dean through the driver’s side window, thanking him again. “No problem, sweetheart,” he said. “Try and stay out of trouble, okay?”

Sam walked you to your door, leaning his shoulder against the wall next to you as you fished for your keys and desperately tried to think of something to say. You’d just clasped your hand around the sought after item in the very bottom corner of your bag when suddenly Sam ducked forward and pressed his lips against yours. Momentarily stunned, it took you a second to react, but then your keys were lost in your bag once again and your hands were in his hair and your mouth was open, and Sam’s strong hands were gripping your face and then your waist, your hips, your lower back, pulling you into him. Just as suddenly, he broke away, pulling back slightly to look at your face as your eyes fluttered open. His eyes were questioning, and you hoped yours were answering because you couldn’t find your voice. You drew in a shaky breath and gripped your hands a little tighter in his hair, which must have been enough indication for him because his mouth was on yours again, urging it open, and your body was pressed between the apartment door and Sam’s chest.

“Where are your keys?” Sam mumbled against your lips while he slid one of his huge hands down from your lower back to cup your ass, pressing your hips up into his. His other hand was caught up in your hair at the back of your head. You unwillingly pulled one of your hands out of his hair and reached into your bag without breaking lip contact. It seemed to take an eternity, but finally your fingers felt cold metal in the bottom of your bag and you wrenched the keys out through the mess.

“Here,” you said, breathless. You had to pull back from Sam, intending to turn around and unlock the door, but Sam didn’t let you. He pulled the keys from your hand and slid them into the lock in one swift movement.

“I got it,” he said into your hair as he leaned into you and opened the door. And suddenly you were in the air, ass in Sam’s large hands, and your bag was on the floor. Sam kicked the door shut with his foot as you crushed your lips back into his, kissing him desperately and hungrily. You’d never really had a fling like this before, but you’d never been as attracted to someone like you were to Sam before either. Nervousness bloomed in your stomach as you realized how long it had been since you’d even kissed anyone, but you pushed the feeling away. _Don’t think, just do_ , you told yourself.

Sam found the couch and fell back onto it, holding you against his chest so you fell on top of him. You giggled as he grinned with his perfect teeth. Then something occurred to you.

“Wait, what about Dean?”

“What about _Dean_?” Sam asked sounding slightly offended.

“I mean, isn’t he waiting in the car? Won’t he think it’s weird when you don’t come down right away?” _Shut up_ , you told yourself. _Quiet babbling and get back to the kissing._

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head and kissing you again. “He went to get a burger.”

“What? You were planning this all along?”

“Well, I was hoping that this is what would happen, anyway.”

He flashed you a mischievous smirk and leaned up to kiss your neck as his hands slid skillfully up your shirt, across your stomach, and under your bra. You moaned against his mouth as you felt all the stress and anxiety from the past two days, and even the school and work stress from before that, melt away under his touch. You kind of didn’t want him to ever stop touching you. You were pretty sure this was your new favorite thing actually.

“Sam,” you moaned into his mouth as your lips collided again.

* * *

 

Later, you laid stretched out on the couch, your body wedged between the back of the couch and Sam’s side, with your head on his chest. Both your’s and Sam’s clothes were in a puddle on your living room floor.

“Think I’ll ever see you again?” you asked softly. You didn’t want to ask, but you couldn’t help it, you had to know or it would eat at you forever. Not that you were looking for...anything really, but for some reason the thought of never seeing Sam again hurt. He didn’t seem like a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy, but maybe he was. With the kind of life he and Dean led, he probably had to be.

“I hope so,” Sam said, and he kissed the top of your head lightly.

Even later, after the couch snuggling had been interrupted by Dean loudly honking the impala’s horn outside your window, and after Sam had gathered up his clothes and kissed you goodbye, and after you’d watched the taillights of the impala until you couldn’t see them anymore, you were unloading all the books from your bag and tossing them onto your bed when you noticed something sticking out of the top of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azakaban_. You opened the cover to find a note, scrawled in neat, all caps letters.

 _If you ever need anything (and not just saving), please call._ It said with both Sam’s and Dean’s cell phone numbers written underneath. You smiled to yourself and grabbed your phone off your nightstand. You typed in Sam’s number and a quick text, hitting the send button quickly before you changed your mind.

_Thanks for saving my life and then some, Winchester._

Sam responded: _I’d do it again in a heartbeat._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments are always MUCH appreciated! :)


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